


Ophelia: The Fool

by whimsicalMedley



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asra (The Arcana) Route, Canon Compliant, Child Abuse, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Other, Points of View, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Romance, Temporary Amnesia, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:14:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21665761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalMedley/pseuds/whimsicalMedley
Summary: Ophelia Steilsson is not the protagonist.Ophelia Steilsson is a banished magician, a failure of a child, and the world's greatest hope. Hopefully, for once, they'll be enough.(A retelling of Asra's route with my MC.)
Relationships: Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana), Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Asra/Julian Devorak
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	1. Part I: The Steilsson Family

**Author's Note:**

> hi there, arcana has consumed my life and now i am writing fics. press f.
> 
> anyway! this story centers around my mc, Ophelia, and it'll be going through pre canon, canon, and a little post canon! Ophelia is nb (they use they/them pronouns), and their home life isn't that great. that being said:
> 
> TW FOR THIS CHAPTER:  
> -child abuse/neglect  
> -a lil self hatred  
> -cutting (not self inflicted)
> 
> (the first few chapters won't be seeing the main cast, but they're important to get the plot established)
> 
> enjoy!!

Ophelia Steilsson learned three things from an early age:

  1. Magic is bad.
  2. Their purpose was to sit still and look pretty.
  3. Their feelings and needs didn't matter.



Ophelia's earliest memories are not fond. They're full of tiptoeing around their parents, taking care of their sister, a baby only four years younger than them, and crushing loneliness. Ophelia Steilsson was not allowed to feel things, as they had things to do and expectations to meet. They learned to shut their emotions off and go through the motions, because it was easier. It was better for everyone, because emotions got in the way of the job. And if Ophelia didn't get the job done, or done perfectly, their parents would get angry.

Ophelia didn't like when their parents got angry.

Matthias and Astrid Steilsson were the count and countess of a large city in the South, and they didn't have _time_ for distractions. They didn't have _time_ to care, because they were making the city safe and happy, _don't you understand that_ ~~_Athena?_ ~~ _Can't you see? No, we can't play with you, we're busy. Go play with Kore. Go._

Matthias and Astrid Steilsson had _expectations._ Not meeting these was a bad idea. It meant yelling, followed by an icy silence. It meant disappointment, _all your fault, you need to do better, be better, be the best._ It meant shame. So much shame.

So, Ophelia learned. They played the game. They sat still and only spoke when spoken to and babysat their sister. They watched Kore and fed her and changed her diaper and sang her to sleep. They realized that love was conditional, and would only be given if they were perfect.

Ophelia was only four.

The life Ophelia lived was cold. Solitary. They weren't allowed to play with the other children, because it would distract them from their lessons and duties. They couldn't go outside and run around in the snow, because it was a waste of time. And most of all, they couldn't do magic.

Ophelia remembers the day their magic finally manifested. It was one of the worst days of their life.

* * *

_Ophelia was six, and Kore was two. Kore had finally gotten the hang of walking, and she loved it. She loved it a little too much._

_Kore was always wandering off. Ophelia would turn her back for two seconds, and Kore would be taking off. It made Ophelia want to rip their hair out, because this made life hard. This made their job hard. Ophelia didn't want to fail._

_Ophelia would get frustrated, and then upset, and then mad._ Really _mad. Kore wouldn't listen, no matter how much Ophelia begged and scolded. Kore would only giggle and continue to wreak havoc. And Ophelia snapped._

_Kore was running, and Ophelia was chasing her. Kore was laughing, and it was grating. Ophelia was tired, they were so tired, and they couldn't take it anymore. Tears started to spill down their cheeks, and they stomped their foot in anger._

_"Kore, STOP!"_

_At Ophelia's shriek, Kore froze. The smile slipped off of her face, and fear set in. She couldn't move her legs. Ophelia blinked in surprise as Kore started to cry, and demanded to be let go._

_"I don't understand, Kore what are you talking about-"_

_Father came rushing around the corner, and Ophelia shrunk into themself._

_"What is going on here? Your mother and I are in a meeting-" Father paused as he saw Kore frozen in the air, and turned towards his eldest child. Ophelia started to shake as they saw their father's face contort into anger._

~~_"_ _Athena_ ~~ _Steilsson. Let her go,_ now."

_Ophelia felt more tears track down her cheeks, and they fought back a sob._

_"Father, I'm not doing it! I don't know what's going on-"_

_"RELEASE HER_ NOW." _Father cut Ophelia off with a shout, making them flinch and cry harder._

_"I-I don't know how!" Ophelia hiccuped, curling in on themself. Kore was wailing now, and Ophelia couldn't think. They couldn't breathe. Father was yelling something at them, but everything was fuzzy, like they were underwater._

_A hand touched their shoulder gently. Ophelia flinched again and hugged themself, shying away from the touch. A voice managed to cut through the static, soft and sweet._

_"Breathe. There you go sweetheart. Concentrate on Kore, on her legs. Imagine them unfreezing. Visualize her landing, and stick to that image."_

_Ophelia saw it through closed eyelids, and felt something loosen in them that they hadn't felt tense in the first place. A soft thump was heard._

_Ophelia opened their eyes to see Kore on the ground, shaking and looking at Ophelia fearfully. Ophelia took a step towards her, and Kore shrank back, terrified. It stung worse than a slap to the face._

_Ophelia turned to see the healer, an older woman named Andromeda, looking down at her. Her eyes were soft and full of understanding. Ophelia's bottom lip wobbled as Andromeda pulled them into a hug, and when the healer carded her fingers through their hair, Ophelia started to wail._

~~_"Athena."_ ~~

_Ophelia froze, and then felt the arms around them tighten._

_"Sir, I think_ ~~_she_ ~~ _needs a moment._ ~~_Athena_ ~~ _doesn't know what's going on," Andromeda said sternly._

 ~~ _"Athena._~~ Now."

_With a sigh, Andromeda started to release Ophelia, which made them cling tighter._

_"Please-" they whimpered, but the healer gently grabbed their hands and pulled them off._

_"Darling, you know disobeying will only make it worse," she whispered. Yes, Ophelia knew that. It didn't make letting go any easier. With a shaky breath, Ophelia turned to their father._

_Father's eyes were not understanding._

_"Let's go," he said lowly, and Ophelia, shaking like a leaf, followed._

* * *

After that day, any talk of magic was forbidden. Magic was disgusting and wrong. It was evil. Other witches had been burned at the stake for doing less than Ophelia had. Ophelia knew they were lucky that they hadn't met the same fate.

The problem was, Ophelia didn't know how to control it. Magic was forbidden in the kingdom Ophelia lived in, so they were well and truly alone. Magic would seep out when their emotions were high, sending the castle into a panic. The staff treated them like a rabid dog. Their parents refused to look at them. Kore would flinch whenever Ophelia touched her.

Ophelia hated it. They hated magic. They hated themself.

Weeks after the first incident, a man came to the castle, and something about him scared Ophelia to their core. He smiled, but it was cold. He looked at Ophelia like they were a monster. He was a doctor, their parents said. He would fix them.

Shackles were placed on Ophelia's wrists. Intricate designs were carved into them, and they were made of a metal. They were heavy on Ophelia's arms, weighing them down.

Ophelia hated them.

The second they were put on, it felt like a fog fell over their senses. Everything was muddled, and Ophelia forgot how to breathe. It took longer for sentences to process in their brain. It took even longer to form them. Ophelia couldn't find it in themself to care that everything had dulled gray. It was better than feeling. Feeling meant pain.

Feeling too much meant the shackles broke, and that meant the doctor would be called back. It meant being hit with every emotion that had been suppressed at once. It meant their magic was back. It meant anger and fear.

This went on for years. When Ophelia was ten, their parents had enough. The shackles broke again, and Ophelia could tell this time would be different.

The doctor came back, but this time he didn't have shackles. Ophelia was confused, but then hopeful. Maybe they were going to stop? Maybe it was over?

_Foolish child._

When the doctor pressed the blade into Ophelia's wrist, they screamed. It took four guards to hold them down, and two more to muffle their shrieking. He did it to both wrists, and when it was done, the fog was back, and thicker than it had ever been. Looking down at their bloody wrists, Ophelia saw the markings that had been on the shackles carved into their skin.

 _I should be scared,_ they thought.

They felt nothing past the fog.


	2. Part I: The Runaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs. Kølher, the royal teacher, learns what Ophelia is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am,,,,so sorry this took so long oof, ive been BUSY as hell. but uhhhhh,,,enjoy!!!

"Miss Steilsson."

Ophelia stared into space silently, praying lessons would be over soon.

_ "Miss Steilsson." _

Why did they even have to go through this? They were the family disappointment. Ophelia was the eldest, yes, but Kore would certainly be inheriting the throne. Nobody wanted a witch as their ruler. So why—

_ "MISS STEILSSON!" _

Ophelia jumped, blinking blearily at their teacher, Mrs. Kølher. Mrs. Kølher was a middle aged woman with gray hair, piercing blue eyes, and a perpetual frown on her face. She smacked Ophelia's hands, which were twirling their orange locks.

Huh, when had that happened?

Ophelia's hands slowly left their hair, and they smiled at Mrs. Kølher sheepishly. They had the habit of playing with their hair when they were tired, nervous, or bored, and Mrs. Kølher hated it.

"Now really," Mrs. Kølher snapped, and Ophelia sighed, "You are the next ruler of this kingdom! Do you really expect the people to take you seriously if your head is always in the clouds?"

"Do you really expect me to be the next ruler of this kingdom?" Ophelia muttered petulantly, which made Mrs. Kølher's scowl worsen.

"Unfortunately, yes. You are the oldest, which means  _ you _ will be queen. Act like it."

"What if I don't want to be?"

As soon as the words left Ophelia's lips, they knew they were in big trouble.

_ "What? _ " Mrs. Køhler hissed, but for the first time in their life, Ophelia truly didn't care.

"What if I don't  _ want _ to be queen?" They replied, their voice filled with venom.

" ~~ Athena ~~ Steilsson, you were born for one purpose. That purpose was to rule this kingdom. I don't know where you're getting these childish fantasies, but you will stop  _ at once." _ Mrs. Kølher's face was red from rage. Ophelia felt their own temper beginning to climb. Standing quickly and sending the chair toppling to the ground, Ophelia clenched their fists.

"No, I won't! You don't understand! The people would never listen to me anyway!"

"With an attitude like that—"

"It's  _ not _ my attitude! It's what I am!"

"If you mean an insolent brat, then—"

"SHUT  _ UP!" _ Ophelia shrieked, and the knife that was settled on the table whizzed towards Mrs. Kølher. It stopped right before impaling itself in her throat.

The room was silent.

Mrs. Kølher's red face had turned white as a sheet as she stared at Ophelia like the monster they were.

"You're—"

"A witch," Ophelia hissed, "and you'll be dead if you say another word."

Mrs. Kølher was shaking.

_ Good. _

"Get out of my room."

The teacher fled, and Ophelia could finally breathe. The knife clattered to the floor, and with it, so did the realization of what they had just done hit them.

"Oh no," Ophelia breathed, staring at the knife in horror. Oh gods. Ophelia glanced at their wrists, covered by long sleeves. The guards surely heard the exchange. They would tell their parents. Ophelia needed a plan, and they needed one  _ now. _

"Ophelia?"

A voice cut through the panic, and Ophelia turned to see Kore looking at them inquisitively.

"Why did Mrs. Kølher just run out of your room like she saw a ghost?"

Ophelia paused. Hearing their chosen name helped push past the fog threatening to envelop them.

Kore had, with time, stopped being scared of Ophelia. She even asked Ophelia to perform magic when they were alone. It was relieving to have their sister back. Kore made the hell that was Ophelia's life a little more bearable. Especially when Kore agreed to call Ophelia by the name they chose. Only when they were out of earshot of anyone, of course.

_ "You're my sibling! Why would I call you by a name you don't like?" _

"I don't know," Ophelia said slyly, "maybe she did!"

Kore laughed, but looked around nervously. After giving her the okay, Kore walked into the room and plopped down on Ophelia's bed.

"I miss you," Kore said quietly.

"We saw each other this morning, Kore," Ophelia chided with a laugh. Their good mood subsided when Kore's frown only deepened.

"Yeah, but we don't…we don't talk anymore. Not like we used to. You're always out of it too! Something is wrong, and I don't know how to help you," Kore whispered, her voice wobbling.

"Hey…" Ophelia opened their arms, and Kore dove into them without hesitation, "I'm so sorry Kore. It's just…princess stuff. I'm stressed out."

Ophelia was lying. Kore didn't need to know that.

"How can I help?" Kore asked quietly.

"I don't think you can, kiddo. I gotta do this on my own."

Ophelia tightened their hold as Kore's shoulders started to shake.

* * *

Ophelia's parents found out, as they always did.

"How  _ dare _ you," father hissed, "Mrs. Kølher had to be paid off to not breathe a  _ word _ of this to anyone. How do you expect to rule—"

"You keep saying I'm going to rule this country, but do you  _ honestly _ believe that?" Ophelia cut him off, "do you really think the people will follow a witch when magic is  _ illegal?" _

" ~~ Athena ~~ Steilsson—" mother gasped, but Ophelia kept going.

"No! We all know I'm not going to be queen of this kingdom. That's Kore. So I don't know why you insist on teaching me how!"

"You dare—"

"You should just kill me off like you want to!"

The air seemed to be sucked out of the room at Ophelia's words.

"Don't act like you don't wish I wasn't born. We all know you do. I'm done here." Turning on their heel, Ophelia walked out of the room.

* * *

"Ophelia? Can you sing me a lullaby?"

Ophelia paused their packing and swiftly turned around. Kore was standing at their door in a nightgown.

Sometimes they forgot she was only eight.

~~ (They always forgot that they were only twelve.) ~~

"Sure," Ophelia smiled, taking their sister's hand and guiding her to her bedroom.

After a few rounds of the lullaby Ophelia made up years ago, Kore was out like a light. Standing up as quietly as possible, Ophelia kissed their little sister's forehead, trying to make sure the tears falling down their cheeks didn't disturb her.

"Goodbye, Kore."

The palace woke the next morning to see Ophelia's bed empty, and the crown princess long gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: femme-fata  
> twitter: gaylienqueen


	3. Part I: The Scourge of the South

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ophelia meets the Scourge of the South, a deadly clan with a particularly annoying "prince."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BAAAAAACK!!!
> 
> TW FOR THIS CHAPTER:  
> -very slight mention of suicide (it's one sentence dw)  
> -mentions of runes being carved into skin (what happened in chapter one)
> 
> anyways.....there's a familiar face in this chapter.............
> 
> enjoy!

Running away from home was a lot harder than the fairytales made it seem.

For one, as Ophelia had left the gates of their old home, they weren't full of excitement and wonder. They weren't ready to tackle the world with a smile. They'd love to say they were, but it would be a lie.

No, they left their home in the Scourgelands a sobbing mess, with nothing but a bag full of clothes and stolen food, terrified that they were making the wrong decision.

Days of wandering left Ophelia weak and exhausted. They had their magic, but ever since those odd symbols had been carved into their wrists, it wasn't nearly as strong. Ophelia hid in caves at night, trying to rest and stay as warm as possible. The Scourgelands were as unforgiving as always, though. It was hard.

And then, a blizzard hit.

Ophelia had been walking slowly, their only way of finding their destination an old compass.

_ (Vesuvia. Vesuvia welcomed witches like Ophelia. All they had to do was get to Vesuvia, or die trying.) _

~~_ I'm only twelve. This isn't fair. _ ~~

One minute, Ophelia was fine. The next, the snow was piling up and they couldn't see anything but white. They tried. They really did, but they couldn't see or hear anything over the roaring of the wind and their tears were freezing to their face and it was so cold and–

And then the world went black.

~~_ I'm only twelve. I don't want to die. Please, I don't want to die. _ ~~

* * *

Against all odds, Ophelia woke.

Blinking blearily, they stared up at a dark brown tent. They were covered in blankets and furs, but they were shivering. It was hard to breathe. Ophelia tried to sit up, but they could barely move. A whimper of pain escaped them.

"Go back to sleep. You need to get your strength back," A voice muttered, and a hand closed over Ophelia's eyes and gently pushed them back down.

Ophelia, too tired to argue, closed their eyes. They were asleep seconds later.

* * *

The next time Ophelia woke up, they felt like a human being instead of a thawing popsicle. They could hear voices outside of the tent, in a language that took a few seconds for Ophelia to process. The clans of the Scourgelands had different dialects, but they could hold a conversation well enough.

When Ophelia finally figured out what clan they had been brought to, their eyes widened in fear.

_ The Scourge of the South. _

The Steilsson Kingdom got on with them as well as anyone could. That didn't stop the terror that gripped Ophelia. Their eyes filled with tears as they realized what was going to happen.

_ They're going to contact my family. They're going to send me back. Please, no, I can't go back– _

"You're awake!"

Someone had popped their head into the tent unnoticed, causing Ophelia to shriek and bolt upright. They laughed uproariously, and Ophelia's eye twitched. That wasn't a kind laugh.

"It appears I am," Ophelia replied carefully. This person had to be older than Ophelia, but not by much. Sixteen at most. They had a shock of platinum blond hair and piercing blue eyes. The most unsettling thing about them though was their smile; it was the smile of a predator.

"I'm Montag. What's your name?" He asked, and Ophelia blanched.

"Ath–" they started, and then paused. They weren't a princess anymore.

"I'm Ophelia," they said, and beamed at their words.

"No need to sound so excited about a name," Montag chuckled, and Ophelia's smile fell, "after all, I know that's not your  _ real _ name."

Ophelia's blood went cold.

"What do you mean?" They asked, voice shaky. Montag's smile became more sinister.

"You think we haven't heard of the Steilsson kingdom? Long red hair, green eyes, freckles, pale skin…the resemblance to your mother is uncanny,  ~~Athena~~."

_ "Don't call me that." _

Ophelia's voice had deepened to almost a growl, and they saw Montag's confident façade crack. They smiled coldly, and their perception flared out unconsciously.

_ There's a knife. It's next to the furs. _

And suddenly, the knife was floating near Montag's throat. He gasped, eyes widening in fear. Ophelia's smile widened.

"I suggest you leave me in peace.  _ Now."  _ And with those words, Montag fled.

Taking a deep breath, Ophelia fell back against the furs. The knife fell to the floor. Glancing at it, Ophelia had an epiphany.

_ Long red hair…  _

Maybe a wardrobe change would be a good idea.

* * *

After falling asleep yet again, Ophelia was shaken awake suddenly.

"Wha–" they gasped, but cut off at the sight of those blue eyes. After a few seconds however, Ophelia realized that they weren't looking at Montag, just a woman who looked a lot like him.

_ Is this his mother? _

"Welcome to the land of the living," she said dryly, "how are you feeling?"

Ophelia blinked, running a hand through their hair. They startled when they realized it now came to their chin instead of their mid back, but then the memories flooded back.

"I'm…okay," they replied warily, and the woman nodded.

"Good. I'm Morga. My son said he spoke with you, so I'm sorry for whatever he said," Morga said, an undercurrent of anger in her voice.

Ophelia gaped.

"I assume he was a brat. He usually is," she sighed, and Ophelia snickered.

"I mean…"

"Well, he told us your name is Ophelia, and nothing else. What exactly was a child like you doing out in a blizzard like that?"

Ophelia blanched, their eyes on the furs in their lap.

"I…I got lost," they muttered, and Morga clicked her tongue.

"You'll need to lie better than that," she said sternly, and Ophelia felt the fight leave their body.

"I was running away," Ophelia replied, their voice thick with tears.

Morga simply nodded.

"We got a message from the Steilsson Kingdom a few days back. Their daughter has gone missing. Would you know anything about that?" Morga asked bluntly, and Ophelia felt tears roll down their cheeks.

"Please don't send me back," Ophelia begged, "I can't go back there. It would kill me. Please."

Morga stared.

Ophelia hiccuped a sob, and held their wrists out for Morga to see. The woman gasped at the symbols that had been carved there, and Ophelia smiled bitterly.

"I'm a witch. You  _ know _ how my clan takes to witches," They whispered.

"So, your parents…"

"Had a 'doctor' visit us. He did this to me. If I go back, they'd kill me. If I'm being honest, I'd end it myself before you had the chance to alert them. I can't…I can't live like that anymore."

Morga stared at Ophelia, expression unreadable. Ophelia held her gaze firmly. They were serious.

"Fine."

Ophelia blinked in shock.

"I'll allow you to stay until we're a bit closer to Vesuvia, but then you better be off. Your parents aren't the most trusting bunch; I'm sure they'll send soldiers our way despite our response," Morga sighed, and Ophelia began to cry, causing her to squawk in confusion.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," they wailed, and Morga sat in bewilderment before hugging Ophelia tightly.

"How old even are you?"

"Twelve."

Morga tightened her grip.

"Too damn young for this shit. I'm sorry, kid."

Ophelia could only sniffle and nod.

* * *

Ophelia didn't like Montag.

Montag was his own brand of obnoxious that was…unflattering, to say the least. He always boasted of his accomplishments and strength, but could never back his claims up. As the so called "prince" of the Socurge of the South, he wasn't very, well…impressive.

"You're nocking the arrow wrong," Ophelia sighed. They didn't even know that was possible.

"No I'm not!" Montag protested, and Ophelia merely snickered.

"You are, but whatever. It's your funeral," they replied.

Ophelia turned to their own bow and arrow, excitement gripping them. They'd always been terrible at close combat, but archery? They could manage that.

Nocking their arrow  _ (properly), _ Ophelia took a deep breath and focused on the target. It was tied to a tree, not very far. Maybe 100 feet. They could do this.

Ophelia exhaled, and just as they released their arrow, Montag shrieked, causing Ophelia to jump about a foot in the air and send their arrow flying into the forest.

"Really?" Ophelia hissed, and turned to glare at Montag, who had somehow shot the ground next to his foot,  _ "how _ are you so bad at this? It's actually impressive."

"Sh–shut up!" Montag shouted, and Ophelia laughed, "stop laughing at me!"

"Nope!" Ophelia cackled, and Montag seemed to have enough. He charged them, causing Ophelia to jolt and begin running towards the camp.

"Get back here Ophelia!" He cried,  and Ophelia laughed freely.

"Catch me if you can, you big baby!"

With a war cry, Montag picked up the pace.

Maybe Montag wasn't  _ all _ bad. Fun to tease, at least.

* * *

Ophelia was with the Scourge of the South for a month before it went wrong.

There was a very good magician in the tribe, a teenager named Anya. She was sweet, and took Ophelia under her wing. Anya had platinum blonde hair that fell to her waist, and the prettiest pair of brown eyes that Ophelia had ever seen.

(Yes they had a tiny crush on her. No that wasn't a bad thing, shut  _ up _ Montag.)

Ophelia was getting their daily lesson from Anya, which was mostly theory. She had said that since those symbols  _ (runes, anti-magic runes) _ had been carved into Ophelia's skin, their magic wasn't as strong as before. Anya, not being a healer, couldn't fix them. The anger in her eyes when she'd seen the scars stuck with Ophelia. It was weird, someone being upset on  _ their _ behalf.

Ophelia was reading an old tome under Anya's supervision, when Montag ran in. Ophelia looked up in annoyance, but blinked in surprise at the grave expression on his face.

"Soldiers from the Steilsson Kingdom found us," he said urgently, and Anya stood quickly.

"Ophelia, you have to run," she whispered, and the terror that had engulfed them tampered down. They had people on their side now.

"My mother is stalling them, but we need to  _ go," _ Montag hissed, and Ophelia nodded. Ophelia peaked out of the tent to see the soldiers, and their heart stopped. These were the soldiers that had held them down during the rune carving. Gulping in fear, Ophelia turned to Anya and Montag.

Anya held out a bag full of food and a few books, her smile bitter. Montag stared at them with sad eyes. Ophelia felt tears begin to gather.

"No time for waterworks, elskede, we gotta go," Anya whispered, pulling Ophelia in for a hug. Ophelia hugged her back tightly.

"Thank you for everything, Anya."

Kissing their forehead, Anya stepped back and ruffled Ophelia's hair.

"You're going to do amazing things, kid. I can feel it."

Montag then grabbed Ophelia's arm, dragging them out of the tent through the back. He quietly brought Ophelia to the stables, and rigged up a horse.

"Thank you, Montag," Ophelia said quietly, and kissed his cheek. Montag stared at them dumbly, face bright red. Rolling their eyes, Ophelia mounted the horse.

"Tell everyone else I say thank you too. I've never been treated as kindly as I was here," they whispered tearfully, and then turned the horse.

"Will I see you again?" Montag asked quietly, face grim.

Ophelia thought about all the times they'd considered Montag annoying, or rude, or anything but the lonely boy he actually was. But something answered his question for Ophelia.

"Yes. You will," they answered, in a voice that wasn't their own.

And with that, Ophelia was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> elskede: danish for darling
> 
> (i based the scourgelands on scandinavia, so...danish)
> 
> also if u dont know, montag is lucio btw. he is here for a Reason and also less of an asshole than i'll be making him later uwu
> 
> tumblr: whimsicalmedley

**Author's Note:**

> title of the fic is taken from the song Ophelia by The Lumineers!
> 
> come yell at me at my tumblr: whimsicalmedley


End file.
